


What do you want from me?

by emmistina



Category: the GazettE
Genre: AU, Angst, But Reita is an asshole, I promise Reita will paint him later, Love/Hate, M/M, Romance, Smut, They still love each other, artist!Reita
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 17:03:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12258471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmistina/pseuds/emmistina
Summary: “You really think I should just accept your stupid apology and take you back into my life?”“Yes.”It was the only thing Akira could think of. He needed to paint the brunette – for the very last time. Then he would stop.





	What do you want from me?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! This is the one story that has been unfinished for quite some time now but I finally decided to finish it! It's Reituki - again - but I hope you will enjoy this nevertheless ♥ Kudos and comments are very appreciated! 
> 
> And just to let you know, English is not my native language so I'm sorry if there is any mistakes.

”What do you want from me?”

The silence inside the living room was poisonous; it made every other sound seem so much louder – raindrops on the roof, heartbeats in their chests and the deep breaths they were taking. They tried to calm themselves down but it was almost impossible.  
Akira was looking at the other man standing across the room, the sight breaking his heart instantly. What did he want from the brunette, exactly? He knew it, even though he argued that he didn’t. 

“What do you want from me, Akira?”

The sentence was repeated, and the low voice made Akira jump a little. He also felt a series of shivers run through his spine. Oh god, he wanted the other, so fucking bad.  
“I… I want to paint you, Taka,” he breathed out, feeling his hands get really sweaty. How was the brunette man making him feel like this? Never had Akira felt this way; never had he fallen in love with someone he hardly even knew. 

_Never had he fallen in love in the first place._

Takanori was… He was incredible, and the thought of not being able to paint him ever again made Akira scream in agony – internally.  
Akira was pulled back to this world when he heard the other chuckle silently, probably at his words. But oh did this artist love the sound of that; every single sound the brunette let come out from his mouth.  
“You said you don’t want me anymore, remember? You said I’m so used, so boring and so fucking ordinary to be painted ever again. You said I disgust you.”

It was true. The blonde artist had said every one of those cruel words, only trying to push Takanori away from him. At that time, he had been so scared of his own feelings because it was the first time in his lifetime when someone had made Akira feel so good and loved.

_It was the first time Akira felt like his heart wasn’t as hard as a cold rock._

Takanori had made his dead, cold heart warm again; he felt like he was still alive, after so many years when he had pushed people away and talked badly about everyone.  
“Yes. I did say that but… Taka, please…”  
“Please what? Should I just forgive you after hurting me so bad that I can’t even look myself at the mirror? You really think I want to be painted, by you, by such an asshole, who didn’t even want to be with me, even though I gave you a really fucking good chance?!”

Akira watched the other man crying on the other side of the room. Takanori had wrapped his hands around himself, like he was trying to protect himself from hurting. The blonde artist wanted to hug this little man so tight.  
“You really think I should just accept your stupid apology and take you back into my life?”

“Yes.”

It was the only thing Akira could think of. He needed to paint the brunette – for the very last time. Then he would stop. 

He would stop and start loving Takanori the way he deserved to be loved.

***

_“Takanori, please, stay still. Seriously, I mean it this time.”  
“Yeah yeah, I can see how much you really mean it, Aki.”_

_Akira growled from the back of his throat when his lust filled dark eyes were connected with the ones he could stare for hours._  
_Takanori was laying on the vintage couch, wearing only a big, white dress shirt which he had actually just stolen from the blonde’s messy wardrobe. The other looked… sexy, too tempting.  
“Seriously, I need to get this done. I want to get this done so I can finally eat you up. Fuck…”_

_After he had left those words from his mouth, Akira groaned and felt his cock twitch in his loose sweatpants. Damn._  
_The brunette man only chuckled lowly, getting into a better position so he could beckon the other to come closer. Akira groaned again, slowly putting the paints and the brushes on the little desk beside him.  
“What if I want you to eat me up right now, my lovely artist?”_

_They could easily hear raindrops falling on to the roof. They could easily feel how much they both wanted to be close to each other._  
_“You’re impossible, Taka,” the blonde laughed softly and moved closer to his young model. The steps he took were slow but really determinate.  
Takanori only smiled, letting the other man see his delicious thighs. _

_“You like me being that way, right, Aki?”_

_Akira only laughed once more, got on to his knees in front of the vintage couch and pulled Takanori so he was being inbetween brunette’s delicate legs.  
The other breathed out, leaning against the back of the couch. He was looking down at his lover. His bright blue eyes were looking through Akira’s whole being; through his whole body only to be greeted by his dark, cold soul._

_Akira smirked and took a hold of Takanori’s thighs._

_“Damn fucking right I do.”_

***

“Akira, please… What are you doing here? You were the one who asked me to leave in the first place. You asked me to leave, even though I said I loved you.”

They were still staring at one another, trying to stay away. They knew that if they were any closer than that, Akira would jump on the brunette and take him like he deserved to be taken. 

_But so would Takanori; he would let the blonde do as he pleased._

Suddenly Akira stepped closer but didn’t say anything. His eyes were fixated on this beautiful and sorrowful looking man who surely didn’t have the strength to even try to run away. A smile appeared on the artist’s lips. “You want me back, Taka.”  
The nickname of the smaller man was used again, and Takanori couldn’t help but shiver after hearing it. He was so scared.  
“N-No. Not after everything you’ve done to me,” the brunette beauty breathed out.  
“You do. I know you do. You can’t just forget the nights we spent together. You can’t forget how many times I made you feel good; how many times I made you cum only by fucking you with my fingers. You can’t-“  
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!”

The air between the two men was getting hotter than before, and it made Akira want to devour that shaking, little body in front of him. He took a couple of more steps so he could touch Takanori if he wanted. But he didn’t do it; he wanted to gain the other’s trust again.  
The younger one breathed out, again.  
“You can’t just say those things anymore… You can’t just come here and say that I want it. You’re such a selfish bastard and I fucking-“  
And then it was too much for the artist. He pulled the brunette closer to his own, bigger body and smashed their lips together. He heard how the other tried to mumble something but after invading his mouth with his tongue, Akira felt how Takanori’s body started to get more relaxed. 

He felt how Takanori folded his arms around his neck. 

_Just like he used to do._

“Taka, take me back…”

It surprised the latter. Akira was begging? It didn’t sound right but it was more than true. The gaze in the artist’s eyes was full of agony; full of despair that it made Takanori almost lose his balance. And suddenly Akira’s hold of his body got tighter than earlier. Takanori felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Aki, stop it…”  
“I can’t. I fucking can’t! You’re mine!” the blonde man cried out, giving the other so many kisses that he didn’t have any chance to refuse. He wanted to shout to Akira; to tell him go away and leave him alone – because the artist was still hurting him.  
Takanori felt tears in the corners of his eyes.  
“You don’t love me. You just want my body, you just want to paint me. So do it then; fuck me and then get the fuck out of here…”

He didn’t have to tell the older man twice. With that he pushed the smaller man against the nearest wall and before kissing him with such a passion, he gave the other a loving look. That look was different from the ones he had ever received while being together with that asshole of an artist. “I want you, all of you, Taka…”  
Takanori felt himself shaking; because deep inside, he knew Akira wasn’t lying. 

 

But he wished that the other was lying; just because he couldn't take it anymore. He just couldn't be the one who was left alone again. If the other really wanted to be with the dark haired man, he should prove it to him.  
"No... No, you don't. Just fuck me and leave, please..." the shorter man whispered, his voice filled with pain. It made the other grunt deeply; he had been an idiot.  
"I will show you, Taka. I will show you that I love you," Akira said, pulling the younger one in to a loving kiss. It made Takanori to see stars behind his eyelids and his body to get excited. Everything seemed so familiar, so intimate. But sex against the wall was something they both had been used to every time they got back home from a night out. 

The brunette let the older man do as he pleased. This would be the last time, anyways. "Aki..." he groaned, feeling the cold fingers under his shirt. They touched him like he was a glass; a glass which could easily get broken. But the truth was, the brunette was already broken. Akira had broken him when he had shouted at him and asked him to leave and take all of his shit with him. It had hurt; 

_and it still did._

The blonde artist watched as the smaller man was a moaning mess in front of him. He wanted to make love to him, the way the younger man deserved. That's why he slowly moved to kiss Takanori's neck, leaving some bite marks on the fair skin. He would make the other his again; he had been such a fool when he had shouted at the other and made him leave.  
"Taka, you're mine... Please, be mine..." the blonde growled darkly, hands opening the younger one's trousers and pulling them lower so the smaller man would understand to step closer to him. Slowly, their clothes were left to the floor and then the artist pushed the brunette against the wall again, kissing him tenderly. Takanori could feel how Akira's hand reached to his back, making its way down to touch his ass.  
"I'm not yours," he moaned after some time but he was lying. He was still Akira's property and he would always be.  
The older man chuckled sweetly. "You are mine. Turn around, baby..." he asked, helping the other turn his back towards him. "Put your hands on the wall, baby." That nickname, it hurt like hell. But Takanori was so happy that it was Akira who was saying it. 

_And he was happy that it was him that Akira was saying it to._

The brunette was nervously waiting for the next action. The blonde was taking his time admiring his body and touching it like it was a temple. And to be honest, he knew the other wanted to make him feel so loved.  
"Aki-" he started but then he felt fingers inside of him, first one, then a second and then the third. He arched his back when he felt the older man fucking him with his long fingers.  
"Say it again. Please, Taka, say it again," the blonde artist growled behind him, hearing the raindrops dropping against the roof. This whole moment made him remember the times they had had each other before; enjoying one another's bodies, listening to the rain outside the building.  
Takanori was about to answer but instead, he let a moan escape from his mouth; feeling the fingers pressing his prostate. Over and over again. He loved it; he loved Akira - even though he so much tried to deny it.  
Tardily, he slightly turned his head so he could meet his previous lover's eyes again. "I love you, Aki..." he breathed out, feeling tears begin to blurry his vision. "I need you, Aki... Please, don't leave me... I'm yours, I have always been yours..." 

The brunette beauty was crying. "Promise me you won't be gone tomorrow morning..."

Akira was taken aback with all of it. But he was so happy that Takanori had said all of those words he had longed to hear for so long. He pressed his lips against his younger lover's, pulling his fingers out of him.  
"I promise you, baby. I love you too, so fucking much. You're mine, I will kill anyone who tries to even look at your way. I will do anything for you, I will kill; I will do anything you ask. If you want me to kill myself, I will do it - because I love you, because you have my heart. You've bewitched me, fuck..." he whispered like he didn't have his lower jaw. 

With that he stroked his own cock a few times, before he pushed inside his lover - they both moaned in unison.  
"I fucking love you, Taka. Fuck! I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," Akira groaned when he pressed himself against the moaning brunette, intertwining their fingers. Takanori was crying, he couldn't stop himself.  
"I hate you, Aki..."

And it made the blonde artist smile.

"I love you, Takanori."

He promised he wouldn't leave the next morning. He was going to keep his promise. 

He would never leave the brunette anymore.


End file.
